For All the Time
by Mourning Ophelia
Summary: He felt that he could protect her forever, if he was able to live that long. 1xR, one-shot


For All the Time By Mourning Ophelia Email: fish@phaedra.nu  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam W. ( Zechs is my man slave though. Nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah, nyaaah...  
  
Author's Note: This story is based off of a short one we read in my English class; if you know it you'll recognize it right away. Credit is at the bottom so I don't give anything away! :x  
  
I'm just taking a short little break from the GW "romantic comedies." I'm done with the first eighth of the last part of "Vittoria!" if that makes any of you feel better and happy inside!  
  
--------------------------------------------------  
  
"In every man's heart there is a secret nerve that answers to the vibrations of beauty." Christopher Morley  
  
--------------------------------------------------  
  
A groan. Eyes remained closed.  
  
A mind seemingly alert, features still and listless.  
  
The feel of the warm steel against his cheek was calming. From his position on the metal surface, no sounds reached his ears save for the ever- present mechanical hum of the colony itself. Like the steady heartbeat of a lover as you lay in bed, or the smooth luring to sleep brought on by long drives in peaceful times. The temptation to lay there, to do absolutely nothing in such a crucial and defining moment in his life, was nearly overwhelming.  
  
No, there wasn't any time.  
  
He struggled; his hands and ankles were bound behind him and the angle at which he was bent against the metal floor did nothing to help his situation.  
  
What had gone wrong?  
  
It had been a routine colony inspection—in and out within a day. She had been the first to notice some strange activity, of course. He had only caught on because of the way her features flinched. Her hands hand clenched just a bit too tight around her clipboard as she pressed it up against her chest and that familiar frown had set in as soon as her tour guide turned his back. It was the little things about her that made such obvious statements. He had walked quickly to catch up with her, their shoulders brushing together as they walked. Her eyes in that moment had revealed so much, and he was almost frightened for her.  
  
A signal was made and Relena came up with several plausible excuses as to why she would have to continue the tour at a later date. He had had a sneaking suspicion that the tour guide may have caught on, but had helped his charge into the waiting car as stoically as he possibly could.  
  
She had explained then what had upset her: she had been in the rest room when voices had filtered down from above. The voices—two males, middle aged she had surmised, were not talking about the titanium that they were supposedly innocently guarding and instead of something far more lethal and dangerous. It was so story-book that he almost hadn't believed her at first.  
  
"I know it sounds crazy..." When had any of her theories not sounded crazy?  
  
But, when had she ever been wrong before?  
  
Une was immediately contacted and he was to be the sole operative in the mission she sketched out over his private line. He had nodded to everything she ordered, though knew that she would never be able to see his actions over his cell phone. After a while, people got use to his silence.  
  
She sat across the room and watched him with a pensive look. Her eyes flashed when he snapped the phone shut, but he felt them on his back rather than turned to see them. He did not need to be looking at her to know what she was feeling.  
  
She approached him from behind, wrapping her slender, smooth, white arms around his shoulders and pressed her cheek against his very innocently. His muscles tensed; she had the most beautiful arms he had ever seen in his entire life.  
  
It was for show. The fact of the matter was the room was bugged to the point that every angle was being watched and only words whispered directly in your ear could be heard. Thinking back on it, it was only the second time he remembered feeling so unpleasantly comfortable; the first time they had gone much farther than a simple hug.  
  
"Are you going alone?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I'm going to have to leave the hotel, Preventer Headquarters thinks it's bugged."  
  
He nodded in response, "Une told me where to leave you."  
  
Her lips moved closer to his ear, "Will you be picking me up?"  
  
A curt nod.  
  
Her cheek seemed to quiver, as if she was sensing something horrible would happen and it filled her with trepidation to even think on it, "Promise me you'll be safe, all right? You still owe me flowers, a candle-lit dinner, and a movie"  
  
He hadn't said anything in that instant, but his arms came up to pull hers closer to him, as if trying to mold them together. It seemed to him, though, that maybe they had already moved beyond that step, and were one in the same.  
  
When he left her at the back of the small flower shop, he never said goodbye.  
  
It wasn't the most difficult mission. By his standards it was simplistic—only an information gathering... in and out, fast and hard.  
  
They must have known he was coming though. From the moment he had walked in dressed in a guard uniform the hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention, and he was struck at the back of the head so quickly he actually never would know what had been used to knock him out.  
  
He banged his head against the metal floor in frustration, angered beyond belief that he had been as sloppy as to have been caught no less than ten minutes after walking in.  
  
Bang!  
  
Bang!  
  
Bang!  
  
And all he could think about were her arms as they had wrapped around him. There was no plan of action he could think of that would be useful for escaping. His weapons must have been stripped from him, because there was no familiar weight at his hip. He rolled onto his side.  
  
It had been her fault. Ever since the day he met her, he had become sloppy.  
  
Footsteps.  
  
Using the strength left in his arms he flipped himself over so his back was facing the door to his holding cell. They must have heard him as he flopped over; his dead weight would have woken someone up on Neptune.  
  
"Hey fellah. Glad to see you awake." The first one, probably no more than thirty years old. He felt the floor dip slightly under his weight. Two more people entered following him.  
  
"You don't see much of his kind in this neck of outer space."  
  
"He came with her."  
  
"Weren't we supposed to kill her?"  
  
The first man entered again, and for the first time Heero picked up on the distinct smell of vodka and it lurched his stomach. He knew it. He knew that's what they had been planning. The little voice in the back of his head had never failed him before, but it seemed to him that it had been knocked flat out with the blunt force to the back of his head.  
  
"I think he'd make much more of a statement to Preventer. They hate having their own kind killed in front of the world. Makes them look bad."  
  
"Let's just get it over with, ok?" This was a new voice, one that hadn't spoken up before. He was young, probably only a few years older than he had been when he first came to Earth so many years ago.  
  
"Fine." The vodka man and the other two lifted his body up and propped him up in the position he had been in before. His eyes clenched shut and he began the mental countdown to self destruction.  
  
The cool metal of the gun barrel contrasted sharply with the warmth of floor. Somewhere above him and to his left he heard the mechanical beep of a video camera being turned on. If they were going to use his death to their own profit then he would give them quite the show to tape.  
  
The vodka man caught something in the corner of his eye. He reached down into his pocket and pulled up the small, worn piece of paper. A sonorous laugh bounced against the metal ways and thundered in his ears.  
  
"Look at who it is boys! She's such a pretty girl for an ugly bastard like himself. Should interest the world the little relationship he had with his boss." The other laughed in agreement.  
  
The mechanical heartbeat went boom, boom, boom.  
  
The safety clicked off and he knew what to do.  
  
--------------------------------------------------  
  
His legs flashed up out of no where, catching vodka man off guard. The bullet meant for the back of his head slashed through the hand cuffs and set his hands free. He flipped himself over agilely, managing to avoid the shots of the other two older men who had just woken up mentally. By then, it was already too late for them.  
  
Vodka man had dropped the gun out of sheer surprise and he had used it to free his feet and shoot the man dead. There was something that filled him again, and once he had the vodka man on the floor, the other two quickly followed.  
  
The boy with the video camera stood there transfixed. He snatched the camera away and threw it against the floor.  
  
"Go home, kid." He spat angrily, and the boy seemed to watch the other man's entire life flash between them. He ran way, quickly.  
  
Once free, he ducked down the hallway, keeping as close to the shaded protection of wall as possible. Bullets began to whiz by him again, bouncing off the walls, missing his body and head by large margins. The handcuffs and leg bindings fell apart in his run and he left a trail of bondage behind him.  
  
He was outside then, coming straight out the way he had come in. He knew that they were still chasing him, but he had to get to her and get them both to safety before it was too late.  
  
In his life, he had never run so fast before. Training had been leading up to this impossible moment and he felt that he could outdistance every form of transportation that mankind had created to remedy their own laziness.  
  
The colony was dying to begin with, but there were still forms of life. The trip had been to see how fit it would be for rehabitation. The artificial grass and flowers had begun to bloom and wild life would be introduced slowly as time went on. The minute his foot hit the grass he seemed to slide along it until his back was against it, and he was laughing.  
  
Oh God! He wanted to tear his shirt off in relief, show anyone and everyone that he was no longer afraid. The stars in the black sky above him glimmered and seemed to smile back down in response. His chest heaved up, down, up, down.  
  
There came a ripping sound near his ear, and he could feel the bullet slide into the ground beside him. In the distance he could hear the voices, but they seemed to be all smeared together and in slow motion. He was up and running again.  
  
He wanted to touch her then so badly. He would apologize for everything if it meant anything to someone. That one night hadn't meant nearly as much then as it did now. He could still see her face, hear her soft words as she moved beneath him and clung to him. Her scent, her hair, her eyes, her, skin, her heart, her soul, her toes, her fingers, her lips, her ears, her nose...  
  
A sharp left turn was made and he dove behind the shelter of a rusted garbage can. No one had used the dumpster for nearly a decade. He should have been out fighting them directly, but all he wanted to do was make it to the flower shop to see her.  
  
Two more blocks.  
  
The funny thing was, in his entire life, he had never had a memory so worth remembering. There had been significant events in his life, but all of them had led up to something more tragic, rather than beautiful. He had always been afraid that the same thing would happen as a result of their intimacy. But how could something so horrible come from something so magnificent, so overwhelming? It felt like he would drown at any moment. He was afraid that he would never recover.  
  
With the stars shining above him, he was bullet proof that night.  
  
He felt that he could protect her forever, if he was able to live that long.  
  
But he just wanted to get there to her, if he could just reach out to her one more time, his entire reason for living would be justified. Nothing would ever make her cry again.  
  
If he could just make it...  
  
He caught a glimpse of gold from behind the familiar brick building. Hadn't he told her to hide herself better? Didn't she know?  
  
She smiled and waved at him, but no matter how fast he ran, she seemed to almost get farther and farther away. The frustration built up in him again, and he almost thought the tears would burst from his eyes violently.  
  
He reached her because she believed in him and knew that he could. He brought her to him and she laughed that soft, chiming laugh that brought grown men to their knees. And he finally did begin to breathe again.  
  
Looking down he finally saw the crushed bouquet of prussian blue lilacs between them.  
  
--------------------------------------------------  
  
His eyes snapped open. There were no stars in the sky of a colony.  
  
The mechanical heartbeat went boom, boom, boom.  
  
The safety clicked off and the gun exploded with life, sending blood against the walls and floor in a grotesque show of art. It slid across the floor like ice melting upon the surface a warmed window.  
  
The beep of the video camera as it turned off played out like a silent witness finally exhaling.  
  
Heero Yuy was dead.  
  
--------------------------------------------------  
  
Anyway. I've been really introspective lately and this idea of what you see before you die, the changes that you would have made, etcetera has always been fascinating to me. I tried to make this as short as I possibly could, because I felt that if I had gone on any longer it would have seriously detracted from the end.  
  
This story is based off of Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge, and I intend no copyright infringement.  
  
If you have any questions or comments, leave me one!  
  
Hopefully I can get started working on Vittoria and the 302938409 million other stories I'm supposed to be working on. ;)  
  
3 Ophelia 


End file.
